A Deafening Silence
by Winter1231505
Summary: Four years on the road by yourself can do unforseen things to a developing mind, Sam is a prime example. As he finds himself in a new desperate world, where the dead have risen up and survival is the only thing that matters, how will one teenager who can barely speak manage to live long enough to keep his promise.
1. Chapter 1: Zero Year

**Okay so a little explanation as to what is up with this story. This was originally a Walking Dead story me and a few of my friends came up with however as we talked more and more seriously the story itself evolved into it's own sort of thing. This is the product of three weeks of planning, testing and rewriting, all in all I hope you guys will give this story a chance to forge a new world with the ideas of many post-apocalyptic stories as well as some of our original ideas. And without further adooooooo, I hope you enjoy.**

 **Chapter 1: Zero Year**

 **One Hour since the End…**

When the first alarms started to ring I thought it was another false training session we weren't informed off. Our intercoms weren't always the best. Instead what we were quickly informed is that we were not allowed to leave the school. 'Stay in your seats, under no circumstances should you leave the school premises.'

It didn't matter how many times we asked, how many times the younger kids screamed and cried, how many times the older kids threatened the teachers. We couldn't leave, and that was that.

An hour later we saw helicopters, police cars, armoured van's, all going towards the city. The sirens were so loud I remember having to stuff paper in my ears as an attempt to block it all out. I thought it was an earthquake that didn't reach us. Then I thought it was a fire that had broken out in one of the parks. It took all of us a day to find out what had actually happened. It wasn't a natural disaster, nor a man-made one…

It was the apocalypse.

 **Meanwhile…**

I called my wife, hoping to God they hadn't gotten to her yet. When I first heard her voice the relief I felt almost made me forget about the end of the world. She told me she was driving towards the school now to pick up Sam, driving past the highway to avoid the endless amount of traffic.

Didn't have time to talk to her for long before my chief called me in his office. I was going to be organizing the rest of the police officers to set up barricades next to the crisis centers. Get all the weapons we could carry, SWAT teams would be sent out to help the people they could, and hold out until the National Guard make it to us.

Four hours later, four hours of shooting at all the red-eyed, pale-skinned crazies sprinting at us. All in all we managed to gather around 2,000 people, including children. We set up a blockade of vehicle's and trucks, anyone with a gun and who knew how to shoot them wanted to pitch in and keep their friends and family safe. None of the police were very inclined to let civilians be risking their lives out there, that was our job, but we did what are you gonna do when the world's falling to shit. We needed all the help we could get.

Both the elderly and the younger kids were set up inside the airport to board all of the escape planes heading towards Washington. The chief didn't tell me much, but it looks like the White House issued a disaster level event happening worldwide. All the civies are going to be escorted by the National Guard to military checkpoints.

At first there was a checkpoint to check people for bites or anything that could lead to infections. The checkpoint quickly became mute as the first horde started charging towards the barricades. Our snipers on the rooftops managed to take a few out before they got in range of our first line whilst the barbed wire and sandbags didn't do much to slow them down.

The way they moved, their hands flailed around without control, running so fast we couldn't even nail them down with our guns. I was surprised how many our snipers managed to take out. When the chief told me the dead were coming back to life I thought he was joking, making a sarcastic remark. But the chief didn't laugh, he didn't even smile, he just continued to tell me what I was going to do. And now these crazy motherfuckers are charging us head-first with no regard of the fact that we were aiming both shotguns and sub-machineguns straight at them. Blind-firing towards the horde rushing at us with a speed no normal person could do. The first to jump past the barricade was some skinny looking dude, his head flailed around behind him as he ran and jumped towards his fellow officer Mcannaugh. We quickly dispatched him before he could do more than pounce on Mcannaugh however it gave the creepy bastards just enough time to completely breach the firing line. My officers tried to stay as calm as they could, however, a lot of the civilians who were fighting beside us panicked, they either ran or started to fire off wildly, spewing as many curse words as they could before they got surrounded and killed.

It's funny, I expected a lot more screaming, and believe me there was screaming, but I couldn't help but think how… strange it was. I glanced behind me to see the infected not eating the dead, but just killing them, mercilessly. Mcannaugh tried to go back and save what civies were left behind, didn't take long before he got surrounded too. I wanted to go back for him, so badly, but I wasn't about to make my son live without a father. My Anna wasn't going to be a widow.

It was do or die, our backs were against the wall, that wall being the entrance to the airport. If they got through us now, everyone inside would be dead. Anna, Sam, I'm sorry, I am so sorry.

 **Three Days since the End…**

Four of the teachers have abandoned the school, 29 kids have also sneaked off during the night. The military was supposed to come for us by now. But each hour that passes makes me think that those students and teachers had a point. Most of us have basically stuck to our classes, sticking to the people we knew. On the first day I called my mom every hour, hoping she would pick up. She never did. All I could hope was that mom and dad were alright.

The first people to leave were the older kids, the 14-year old's whose egos were bigger than their brains. They broke the tables and chairs, grabbing large chunks of woods and pipes, excited about the start of the end of the world.

Food and water hasn't become a problem yet, our drinking supply basically consists of the couple hundred water bottles and jugs we managed to fill up on the first day. Teachers told us to do it before the sewage collapsed. I didn't think it could have been that bad out there but life seemed to have quickly gained this annoying habit of proving me wrong every step of the way. The teachers and some of the older kids rushed towards all of the nearby stores and bakeries around our school to pick up as much food as they could, using the biggest school backpacks we could find. On the third day me and my friends volunteered to go as well, my thought process being the more hands the better. Our gym teacher, Mr. Douglas Kannings, or just 'Doug' as the kids who've grown familiar with him would always call him, was hesitant at first however Ryan managed to quickly convince him that there would be a bigger haul if more people came with him.

It was all Jason's idea at first. He had the most trust in Mr. Kannings, I guess the kid with the most experience in P.E. would be the one to volunteer.

The four of us weren't the most distinct bunch, four normal middle school kids. Well, "normal" being quite the subjective term.

Jason was our sports guy. Running, climbing, workouts, football, basketball. It didn't matter how hard it was, he would always be the best at it.

Ryan was the smart one. Grade A student across the board, excelling at even P.E. almost as much as Jason. He's… I wouldn't say cold just… logical. Even in the 1st grade he had a very cynical outlook, not something you usually find in a 7 year old.

Timothy, or just Tim as we called him, was a shy kid, the one that would often get bullied and picked on. Luckily we managed to get to him before any of that happened but that doesn't mean his demeanor's changed.

And then there's me, Sam. I'm just your everyday average kid. No big ups or downs about me, you either know me by name or you forget I even exist. Needless to say I'm probably the odd-one-out of the group.

Four of us all meet at the start of the 1st grade. We talked and got to know a bit about each other and ever since then we just kind of stuck around one another, keeping to ourselves and hanging out whenever we could. The times right now sort of forced us into an extreme of our situation I would say. 5 years of basically keeping to ourselves hasn't really done much favors for us in terms of our connections with the other kids, even the others in our class. When the sirens began to blare it was everyone for themselves, within the school grounds of course. There was only so many school staff to keep us in check so you could say nothing really changed, apart from the whole end of the world stuff.

I don't really know why I'm writing all this down. Guess it's in the hope that someone might find it if we all end up dying, or worse. For at least someone out there to know who me and my friends were, to remember us.

We're heading out in an hour, there's 20 of us in total, not including our teacher. I just hope I'll be able to write what happened in this piece of shit notebook tomorrow.

 **Six days since End…**

We did it, we held the line. All the civies managed to get in the escape planes. Hopefully they're all going to be safe in whatever place the guard sent them. But that unfortunately doesn't include me. When the first horde attacked us six days ago I thought we were goners, but somehow we managed to fend them off. Follow that with 4 days of no real confirmed threats and all we were left to do was search the city for any possible survivors. Lucky us when the only people we find turn out to be some crazy homeless dude who was just mumbling to himself near an apartment building. At first we thought he was infected but he showed no symptoms, the appearance also didn't match what we've already established the infected to look like. He was just some sick old man that went over the edge.

The guy apparently was sick from something else though, a day later he died, just started coughing and keeled over all of a sudden. Barbara said it was a heart attack but with no real medical equipment it was just me, my 7 remaining officers and one dead hobo, all locked inside a now abandoned airport. It was obvious that the guard wasn't coming back for us. I had half the mind to just abandon the airport and look for Sam back at his school. Every day I tried and to contact Anna but she wasn't picking up, all I can hope is that she got to the school in time and that they're somewhere safe.

Only a few minutes passed before the hobo turned…

We were so stupid, thinking that this was like in the movies, thinking that you'd need a bite to turn, I should have pieced it all together on day one. At first we didn't even notice him getting back up, it wasn't until that ear-busting screech he let out before we unloaded our clips into him. But it was too late.

While we may have managed to kill him without much trouble that scream called forth every single infected in Los Angeles. And it wasn't long before we were overwhelmed.

And now here I am, a broken leg and almost torn off arm because those fuckers were just so fast. The people I was fighting with, the people I've worked with for years, all of them are now dead and currently breaking down the door. I keep thinking I could have saved them, fired off a few shots and made the horde follow me instead. One life to save 7 others, but instead… I just ran… like a coward. Because of me, they're all dead.

Mcannaugh, Barbara, Price, John, Mikey, Sarah… I can see them through the barricaded door. Funny, I never did get a good look at those fuckers until now, it was probably for the best, because now it's sending chills down my spine.

Bloodshot eyes, pale skin as white as snow, veins running through their necks so thick they looked like they were about to explode, their fingernails were torn off from how hard they were scratching the door at first leaving only blood-soaked hands trying to reach out to me.

Ironic, the horde must have probably moved on from now, and they must have been all that was left in the airport. I guess I deserve this after everything I did…

No… after everything _I didn't_ do.

 **One month since the End…**

We've been walking non-stop for almost two weeks now. To the person who finds this, _if_ someone finds this. We were successful in the supply run, managed to bring in a really good haul. It's funny, after that all of us became so optimistic, we thought we were going to be able to survive, that in maybe just a few weeks time the military were gonna come in and get us out of here. That maybe it wouldn't be like in all those movies and stuff, that we would actually be saved.

Boy were we wrong.

I think it was a Tuesday. I had just been woken up from my comfortable little corner that I called a bed. Tim kept shaking me so much I think I hit my head on the wall a few times. It didn't take long for me to fully be aware of what was happening. Something that I was afraid would happen since the moment I learned about everything that was happening on the outside.

A horde was coming, straight towards our school.

Before this I had only encountered one, but that one time was enough to scare the shit out me. They just looked so wrong. Everything about them made me almost piss myself in fear. If this was what the people back in the city had to deal with then I'm so sorry for ever talking bad about the people of LA.

While I'm writing this down all of these thoughts are constantly running through my brain. What if we had stayed and fought? What if we had held our ground in the school? What if we weren't on the brink of dying right now because we were cowards? The school could have been barricaded (even more that we _already_ barricaded it) and we could have held out with what we had, it's not like we didn't _know_ how to fight.

I'm sure if dad was reading this right now he'd probably slap that sort of thinking right out of me. 'A brave dead man is no use to the world' he would say as if he were some sort of mentor in a fantasy book or something. The irony was always clear to me seeing how he's a cop and cops need to be brave all the time.

The moment we learned about the horde we packed everything we could into every backpack we could carry and started our long journey into the world that was currently falling apart at the seams. At the time there was around 150 of us in total I think. Now, there's only 78 of us left, I even counted.

I guess I should write down all the things we've seen in these two weeks of travelling since I haven't really been that active in writing to my imaginary reader. Honestly though, I'm exhausted, not only from the walking but from just seeing everything that our world has become. The cities have been absolutely destroyed, sometimes I hear explosions off in the distance. I keep thinking that they might me the military, sending out scouts to look for survivors that were left behind. It's not like I'll ever be able to find out since our teachers are refusing anyone to go away from the group, even to take a piss.

If Mr. Kannings were here, I think he would have led us all much better, he knew how to do crowd control and at this point he was the most experienced out of all of us in regards of dealing with infected. Not just killing them, but how to maneuver around them, distract them, all of that stuff.

It was no wonder then when he volunteered to distract the horde while all of us evacuated the school. We were all hopeful that he would come back by now, that he would have easily just tricked them into going a different direction, or that he was just fast enough to outrun them. But I think even Mr. Kannings knew that he was going on a one way trip.

Food and water are becoming scarce, but I think we'll be able to manage for now. I don't really know where we are but the infected mainly seem to gather around major cities so perhaps we'll be able to find other people, it would be a nice change of pace from the nothingness we we've been encountering for two weeks straight.

I'll probably keep writing in this stupid notebook until I run out of pages, or pencils, whichever. It's a good way to pass some time during the breaks.

 **37 days since the End…**

Ryan was right. I didn't want to admit it but he was right. We're becoming more desperate. So desperate we've started to walk over those who can't keep going. The teachers are trying to keep us all from going crazy, but I think even some of them are struggling to do the same. Food is scarce right now, more scarce than even a week ago, our rations consist of small meals, one in the morning, one in the evening. But that obviously isn't enough for over 50 kids who've have been almost starving for a month now. Water is an even bigger issue. Our biology teacher taught us how to boil water using pots and pans as well as how to make a campfire but as we go in more inland there's less and less water sources for us to boil and use.

At least I think we're going inland, I'm convinced we're lost at this point and without a proper map we might as well have been walking in circles an entire month.

To the person reading this and wondering what I'm talking about when I mention Ryan;

We were all sitting down, taking a break after yet another day of walking. It was the four of us, as usual. I don't know how but the conversation got brought up, how were we planning on keeping this thing going. Jason, the idiot that he is, immediately just shut it down by saying what he always did, 'We'll manage'.

But it was Ryan who said what we were all thinking. Someone was going to have to leave, not just one either. There obviously wasn't enough food for all of us and the answer was obvious.

I didn't say anything at the time but between the loud arguing between Jason and Ryan and Tim trying to peacekeep as much as he could, I knew what had to be done. No one else in our entire school would be willing to do this, that is something I am 110% sure on, and I was not going to willingly throw out helpless kids who just want to see their parents again.

I may be one of those helpless kids, but if my rations, or clothes, or flashlight, or even this stupid goddamn notebook manages to help even a single person, then I will know what I am about to do is not going to be in vain.

My name is Sam Fuller, my parents' names are Phillip and Anna, please if anyone who reads this knows who they are…

… tell them I love them.


	2. CODEX: The Zed

**CODEX: The Zed**

All right so I guess I should first introduce myself to whoever the fuck reads this.

My names Dr. Michael Freer, one of the chief researchers and scouters for the White House regarding the infected. That means lists on every single strain, mutation and deviation from the original virus, including the very first infected.

I'm gonna have to be honest with you here mysterious reader I don't really give a damn about this whole Codex thing but if the boss says 'jump' I say 'how high?', so I guess you and I are stuck here.

With introductions out of the way I guess I should start with the boys and girls that started it all; The Zombies, or as we've turned to calling them, The Zed.

Now at first glance these bad boys may not seem like all that much and frankly that's what we thought as well, but boy were we wrong.

I guess that was always the main question in those zombie movies, 'How'd this all start?' and well to tell you the truth I ain't got even a lick of evidence to tell you how these bastards started walking our Mother Earth. All I know is that one day people all of a sudden just started rising up from the dead. It could have been someone who died in a hospital from cancer, someone who was buried in a graveyard, someone who got shanked in prison, hell it could have even been someone who just up and keeled over from old age. It didn't matter because on November 16th all those people got up 1 or 2 minutes later and started killing anyone they saw. Didn't matter how even, mutilation, caving the skull in, breaking necks or even just beating someone mercilessly until they died, it was all the same to these fuckers. Imagine everyone's shock then when those very same people who got viciously beaten to death rose up a few minutes later and started doing the same.

I remember when this all started a few years ago and we just thought they were like normal zombies; 'What's the big deal? Yeah sure they run fast but we can just gun'em down. Shoot 'em in the head or decapitate the bastards. Just be careful they don't bite you.'

You couldn't even imagine how much we underestimated them.

It wasn't long before they started learning, adapting, in no time the fuckers were using strategies against us. In my head I think the only reason they worked so well was because of how much we didn't expect it.

Alongside that they also learned how to use some weapons, some of them even knew how to pull the trigger of a gun, granted their aim was absolute shit but when you have an automatic rifle in the arm of a spazstastic infected one of the bullets is bound to hit something.

I can't really confirm or deny it currently but I do have a theory on how that works for them, in short it's all just muscle memory. Someone could get killed by a zed whilst holding say a knife in their hand, once they come back to life they might see that knife still in their hand and eventually through sheer logical thinking they might reach the conclusion that they should use it to slash the shit out of us.

It's both a scary and interesting thought to me that these once-thought brainless vessels of a virus are capable of rational thought. In a way, you could say it's just evolution running it course, perhaps in a few decades they'll learn speech, in a few centuries they'll learn about setting up civilization, and in a millenia or two... the difference between them and us might just be unnoticable.

Right, I guess I should also mention another trait these assholes have, evolution.

That's right, you read it right, they can evolve, sometimes it takes time, other times it could even be a spontaneous evolution. Now so far I've been trying to explain to you dear reader about how these fuckers function, but with this I can with certainty say that I am completely lost.

There are no triggers for an evolution, no event, no mutation, it seems to be purely random. Sometimes an evolution can even make a Zed's life a living hell. Their head could grow to such a size that they can't even support their own body weight, their arms could suddenly explode and be replaced with sacks of flesh, their skin could start to swell up and kill them on the spot.

It's a scary thought really, to suddenly lose control of your own body. But that doesn't mean that all mutations negatively affect a Zed. Sometimes a Zed who has a knack for using weapons might suddenly grow a few more arms, the number varies from one extra arm to several. Perhaps a Zed has grown tired of constantly chasing it's prey and learns to spit acidic venom out of it's mouth to immobolize the person or animal being chased.

Sometimes, if it's lucky, a Zed might fully evolve into a completely new strain of infected and thus other strains might attempt to imitate it, effectively giving birth to an entirely new breed of infected.

It's for these reasons that the Zed are perhaps both the easiest as well as the hardest to fight and/or strategize against, due to their sheer unpredictability.

Today you may not find many real Zeds as they have all either evolved to the point of being unrecognisable or have simply died due to sheer bad luck.

We all carry the virus within ourselves however whilst we as an organism are functioning the virus lays dormant. It's only when that same organism completely shuts down that the virus takes effect, morphing what we perceive as normal into something almost entirely unrecognisable.

So in a way you can say that the Zed were just the infected who got to the party too early. And only over time did their host notice how flawed they were.


	3. Chapter 2: The Map

**Chapter 2: The Map**

* * *

 **1462 days since the End…**

In the dead of night he slowly started to enter the monster-infested town under the hope that he would finally find what he was looking for. A map.

It didn't have to be a map of the entire US, just something he could have to finally know where he would be going. Of course it was a long shot, that's why it's been taking him months to actually find one, but he couldn't give up hope, not after so much time.

The moon was providing just enough light for him to know where to take his next steps, to see where the nocturnals were wandering, where they were looking. However he knew that the moonlight could only do so much so he held tight to his flashlight for whenever he was bound to enter into a enclosed space.

Sam officially entered the town through one of the openings of a fence that leads into the backyard of a house. The house itself proved to be a good enough starting point, it had two floors by the looks of it as well as an attic that provides a way to the rooftops, as well as serving as a possible escape route. When he entered through the fence it was his first time seeing the house so up close, before that he mainly just scouted the town from afar, memorizing all of the streets, where they would lead, making sure about all the types of infected that were in the city. All of it was for preparations sake but from afar the town itself didn't look that bad. All the buildings seemed to be intact and the roads, whilst they were swarming with ghouls by day and nocturnals by night, looked safe enough for a vehicle to traverse fairly unscathed.

However now that he was looking at everything up close, Sam found out for himself how destroyed the town really was. The white-painted house that from a distance looked almost unscathed had several broken windows that were barricaded with now almost broken planks of wood. The walls seemed to be filled with scratches, no doubt from either the ghouls or the zed who were trying to get in there in chase of some unlucky survivors perhaps.

 _'Survivors…'_ the thought crossed his mind for a moment as he looked down to see vines slowly starting to form around the foundations of the building. It had been so long since he even saw another person. Of course there were the countless monsters he would encounter almost daily but they mainly tried to kill him, not the best individuals for conversation.

Sam can't even recall the last time he's spoken a word out loud. It could have been days, weeks, a month even. At this point however, he had gotten used to being alone all the time. Traveling by yourself for years on the road gives someone a lot of time to think, about themselves, about life, about how they got to where they are now. A lot of these things Sam has thought about but he's never been able to find a lot of answers.

But now was not the time to daydream. He had a map to find and hopefully some supplies alongside that if he was lucky. The first thing to do was to find a way inside the house and hope it hasn't been picked clean yet.

He slowly snuck around the backyard, hearing the grass that was almost halfway up to his knees rustle as he went by. As he had previously observed all the windows seemed boarded up and while some of the boards were broken they were still too close together for Sam to be able to squeeze through. He could perhaps try breaking though one of the boards and make an entrance that way but that was too much noise. It would probably attract every infected around the block, as well as hurt Sam's ears.

When he reached around to the front entrance of the house he had a full view of the open street as well as all of the other houses. The street was seemingly empty however even now he could hear the raspy breathing of the ghoul pack, probably lying in wait inside the many rusted and destroyed cars.

Sam hated being around ghouls especially. Zed's he could tolerate, they didn't have such ugly breathing. He often wondered if he should be thankful at how well he's grown to know the signs of when particular infected were near, usually it was him being able to hear certain patterns from them, whether that be their breathing, their footsteps or even the sounds they let out. It was one of the reasons he managed to survive this long, mainly because he knew when to run, hide or fight.

A few more steps carefully approaching the main entrance of the house while being careful not to trigger the ghouls Sam suddenly got an idea. He walked up to the front door and gently placed his hand on the doorknob. With a slow turn Sam heard a click and door opened.

 _'Nice…'_ he thought to himself, he could never imagine something could be this easy, maybe this was a sign of a good situation. Luck might finally be on his side.

Slowly but surely he entered the home and closed the door behind him, all the while making sure to pay attention to the ghouls in the distance, making sure to spot if there would be any oddities in their breathing. But for now, he was safe and more importantly, he was going to need to find himself some supplies.

He breathed in, closed his eyes and tried to focus his hearing to the inside of the house as a way of seeing if anyone else was in here. Deep down Sam hoped another human could possibly be inside as well, it would be a nice surprise but if you count the front door being unlocked Sam may just be pushing his luck today.

He couldn't hear anything, no breathing, no noises and no other miscellaneous sounds, everything was dead silent. With that confirmation Sam lit up his flashlight and slowly started to look through the house.

The first places he looked were the cupboards and drawers, a map might have been what Sam was looking for but food and water was also important and Sam was running low on both. One full bottle filled with sanitized clean water, one box with 3 packets of hard crackers, 4 per packet, and a can of canned chicken soup, something he had been saving for a few months now, perhaps on a cold night. If he managed the food well enough he could perhaps go on for another 3 days before he had to go to sleep hungry. It wouldn't really be the first time but he would rather have his past experiences not be repeated every other week.

In the kitchen he didn't find much, just a bunch of broken plates and rust-covered silverware. But to his luck there was one saving grace coming from this dirty kitchen, a fairly clean pot.

 _'Water…'_ Sam could find a few good uses for this pot, not just sanitizing water but also a way to cook some food that isn't canned beans or hard crackers. He hated hard crackers, so much noise.

In a few quick movements he put the pot in his backpack, in between a few cloth rags as to not make too much noise when he was moving around, and continued on towards the living room. If it wasn't for this survival backpack he probably would have been dead a long time ago but thanks to said back pack he's been able to carry around a lot of supplies alongside his personal weapons and tools.

The living room didn't prove to be of much use, a lot of the drawers were either filled with letters, books or photos. Perhaps serving as good fuel but other than that he would rather not burn someone else's family photos, even if the family was either dead or not going to come back here any time soon.

Up towards the second floor Sam followed the flight of stairs towards a locked door that led to what he assumed was the main bedroom. He did a quick check of every other room on the second floor, the only one the bore any fruit was the bathroom however. He opened up the medicine cabinet to find a bottle of painkillers. Sam's heart skipped a beat when he opened up the small bottle to find dozens of painkiller pills, it really was his lucky day.

Once the painkillers were placed in a side pocket of the backpack he went back to the entrance of the bedroom. While he was happy that he found some painkillers, an extremely rare and good find, the rustling quickly got on his nerves yet thankfully the backpack drowned most of the noise out. But now wasn't the time to focus on the noises from something that could possibly save his life someday.

He knelt down in front of the bedroom door and pulled out a small pocket knife from his pocket and a small metal lockpick he fashioned for himself.

It didn't take long until he managed to unlock the door. He had gotten used to lockpicking, often using the noises the pick would make for when to push into the lock. Once he had entered the bedroom he was greeted with a sight that always makes him shiver.

Down in the living room a lot of the photos Sam found were of an elderly couple. Sam wanted to believe that couple was still out there somewhere by some long shot of a chance. His hope was dashed when he found the very same couple lying in the bed, holding each other's hand and with a massive hole in their heads in the shape of a bullet. Next to the bed was a letter;

"Massie, if you ever manage to find this then I'm sorry me and your father couldn't make it. This world has gone to ruin and people like us don't belong anymore. The dead have risen up and friends and neighbors have started turning on each other. We don't want to see that happen to you, we don't want to see ourselves turn into those things. We love you Massie, forever and ever…

Goodbye"

 _'Massie…'_

Massie was probably dead. Deep down Sam hoped the three of them would find each other in the afterlife. But from the look of the corpses the two of them have been here for a while. They're practically skeletons with withered flesh barely sticking on their bones. They must have simply given up near the start when they realized the government fell.

 _'No… out there… somewhere…'_

* * *

 **Several Hours Later…**

It took him a few hours but he had finally finished up scavenging the entire neighborhood he was in whilst avoiding the infected. Sadly the other buildings proved to be less than what Sam had bargained for as it seemed the only one with any useful supplies was the white house. The only other thing of note besides three empty shotgun shell cases he found lying on the ground was a German dictionary, however it wasn't a German-to-English one, just a purely German one.

 _'Weird…'_ he thought, but the book itself was light enough and had enough pages to be used as good fuel for whenever he needed to light a fire.

The supply hunt seemed to be in vain, he perhaps found 3 useful items and none of them were food, or a map. But Sam wasn't about to give up. He had perhaps two or three more hours of nighttime left before the sun would set out, it just could be enough time for him to take the risk.

He was going to try and push his luck to it's limit this night, and go through the old abandoned storage building, or as it's become known to him now, a nest for the Nocturnals.

* * *

 **34 minutes later…**

It took him a while to get past the ghouls and nocturnals but soon enough he reached the entrance to the storage building he had spotted before. Granted it wasn't that hard to find seeing as how it was a giant hole in the wall. From what he could deduce it was probably the result of a car or truck crashing into the wall of the building that caused such a massive breach. It must have happened a long time ago because Sam didn't find any cars even close to the building. That could also explain how the Nocturnals made a nest there, usually they would find caves or dig themselves tunnels. Somewhere very little light can actually come through.

Sam couldn't help but shudder at the thought of even considering this plan, so much so that his hearts been pounding this entire time.

Ghouls and Zeds, Elephants and Spark Moles, even the Mist Gorgers he could deal with, he knew how to get past them. But it was always the Nocturnals that got to him, the one infected he could never hear until it was too late. Sam doesn't like to repeat past failures but with Nocturnals it just seems to be a never ending dance.

 _'No time…'_ the words flashed in his head as he remembered that the sun would be coming up in less than three hours. Meaning that if he was still in the building when it did then he would trapped inside with an entire nest of Nocturnals. A recipe for death, a long and painful one.

Avoiding the rubble and small stones as he entered the building he was hesitant in turning on his flashlight with the fear he would immediately be face-to-face with a Nocturnal. With a shake of his head and a steeling of his nerves however he turned on the flashlight with the reveal of no infected being there, much to Sam's relief.

He was finally inside the nest, before he could safely continue however he did the same thing as with every other house he would scavenge, he listened closely. Though Nocturnals were deathly silent Sam could still recognize if something was making footsteps, it was one of the reasons he stood completely still whenever he would start listening as to not confuse his own footsteps with that of others.

No one there. Sam almost breathed a sigh of relief before he realized it would make too much noise. The last thing he needed was too much noise.

However, now he was in an abandoned storage building with pillars of closed boxes. All of these boxes seemed untouched even. As both a precaution and a tool he could use to open up the boxes he pulled out his machete. The machete Sam used was something of a personal heirloom to him, mainly due to it taking him months to properly make it. Gathering all the resources to make the thing, welding everything in place, not to mention finding a welding tool in the first place as well as the fuel to use it, making it practical to wield and the most important thing, making it effective against different types of infected. It may have looked extremely shabby and poorly-crafted but the machete never let him down in the past, proving more than useful as not only a weapon but also a makeshift crowbar when needed.

It was strange, for the first time there were so many places to look that Sam didn't even know when to start. As a precaution he decided to start off with the boxes that were closest to the exit.

When he opened up the first box he didn't know what to expect but he would have hoped for some food but sadly the following few boxes were nothing but building materials. As he continued scavenging his hope started to wain more and more as it quickly dawned on Sam that this entire hunt might have been in vain. But there was still time, and if this building had one thing going for it, it was the fact that it was absolutely massive. There was the chance that he only scratched the surface of the boxes.

* * *

 **47 minutes later…**

As he went further and further in the signs of the Nocturnal nest became much more clearer to see. Sam never could figure out what all the cocoons and sacks of flesh that would hang off the walls were used for, he often finds himself reaching the conclusion that it's best if he doesn't find out.

It didn't look like there was anything to actually scavenge in the end, and Sam was running out of time. But just then he heard something, creaking. It may have been the first time in a while where Sam was unsure in himself whether or not he actually he heard something. His suspicions were confirmed however as he turned his flashlight to face a hanging dead body. One that looked fresh in fact.

He squinted his eyes to get a better look at the corpse when he noticed that the head was completely bashed in. 'Not coming back…' he thought to himself.

This could have been Sam if he wasn't careful. The body was uncomfortably fresh as well. Almost as if this happened only a few hours ago. But aside from the corpse there was another thing that caught Sam's eyes. The corpse's backpack. But more importantly it was what was hanging out of the backpack. The one thing Sam was looking for this entire time, a map.

The body was hanging upside down and from what he could see one of those cocoons was the thing that was holding it up. Sam quickly used the machete to start chopping up the corpse's legs, it was bound to make noise, a lot of it, but Sam wanted to see what the entire backpack had for him, perhaps some water or food. A few chops in and the first leg had already been chopped off, he was tempted to just take off the backpack from the corpse right then and now but he had already started the process, might as well end it.

With a final swing he cut off the legs from the feet and quickly tried to catch the corpse before it fell on the ground and made any sort of thud. Despite that there was still a lot of rustling and when the corpse finally fell the many sounds that echoed throughout the building made Sam's ears start pounding. But that wasn't important right now, what was important is that he can finally search the corpse and even more importantly, get that map.

He put the flashlight in his mouth and the machete right next to him on the ground so he could use both hands.

He took the map and started examining it. From the look of it the map seemed to be encompassing the northern side of the US which included Montana, Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Wyoming, both of the Dakotas, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan. The map wasn't too detailed, only including the borders of each state and the capitals of each, including some of the larger cities in said states. There was a big red circle drawn around the state of Montana which could mean that Sam was currently there. Where _exactly_ in Montana he was is something that Sam was going to have to find out later. For now he simply folded and put the map in his backpack and continued searching.

As he reached into the corpse's back however a chill suddenly went down his spine. The one thing he was trying so hard not to happen looked like it did anyway. He may not have heard it, but he felt it…

Before he could even notice, a Nocturnal was breathing coldly down his neck…


	4. CODEX: The Ghouls and The Nocturnals

**CODEX: The Ghouls and The Nocturnals**

* * *

Dr. Michael Freer back at you all again with another Codex entry. Since I wrote the last one my director of research, Phil as we'll call him for now, said I should be writing this thing more professionally because this is a "public document". Well you know what I say to that? Fuck you Phil! You want this thing done professionally then you can do it yourself but as long as I'm on it this Codex is gonna be done MY WAY.

Not like anyone reads this garbage anyway.

Well with that out of the way I got a special suprise for all you boys and girls in your crumbling and ruined homes, we got a double-trouble special this time around. That's right today we'll be dealing with two types of infected, both seemingly distant from each other yet more connected than you would think.

Our first contenders, _The Ghouls_ ;

Now kids, you may ask yourselves "Well why are they called Ghouls? Aren't those the things from that one show I watched back in the day? They don't look anything like that.", and as always I shall grace your feeble uneducated minds with my years of knowledge.

Ghouls, as we call them, derive from a strain of virus that started somewhere around the 2nd year and they typically layed dormant inside the bodies of males age 40 and up. So far there has been no reported sighting of a female ghoul and thus it is believed that this strain of the virus only resides within the male organism.

As for appearance these bad boys will usually have on whatever they died with in terms of clothes however unlike the Zed, which are mainly more humanoid in nature, these Ghouls seem to have inherited a more animalistic form. All of them have a hunchback with spikes starting to form around their spinal region, this is perhaps the result of their bones accomodating to the rapid changes in the body. Besides that they also possess elongated claws that are actually the bones in their fingers giving way to mutation. This however is not the same for the nails on their feet which simply seem to be elongated. The feet themselves have morphed in a way that allows the ghouls to traverse and climb many smooth surfaces using the power of velocity to run up walls and other assorted obstacles.

Did I mention they're also cannibals? Yup, unlike most of the other infected these motherfuckers seem to be in actual need of some substance, it just so happens that substance happens to be meat. They are extremely aggressive carnivores, eating any flesh they can find though they do seem to prefer humans above others. Hence the name of Ghoul.

Now you notice how I said they have a prefference for human flesh? Well that also applies to other Ghouls, thus their reputation of being cannibals.

Now granted they will only resort to eating their own AFTER they are confirmed dead. Although humans don't have that kind of luck. Usually you'll be lucky if they beat your head into the cavement before they tear you apart. Some people however, aren't as lucky... let's just keep it at that.

Well anyways, on to our next batch of contaminated, malformed, ugly as fucking sin strain of infected. _The Nocturnals_ ;

Now these literal tongue-twisters may not look like it at first however they do share a connection to our previously mentioned ghouls. For you see this strain of infected comes from an extremely simmiliar type of virus as with the ghouls. There is one distinction from the ghouls though.

While the ghouls are usually males from their 40's and up these Nocturnals descend from the female body, with the same age range.

Now the virus doesn't usually affect men and women differently however there are certain strains that are exclusive to one gender. The Ghouls and The Nocturnals are a perfect example of that. Make no mistake however, the Nocturnals are a hundreds time more dangerous than the Ghouls.

Whilst the Ghouls are mainly pack animals, their intelligence can be summed up to feral dogs. They aren't really capable of any complex thoughts or strategies other than "Charge at the food until they can't fight back anymore".

The Nocturnals are a completely different story though. As their names suggest they are completely nocturnal creatures. The Sun, while not damaging them completely, tires the Nocturnals out extremely fast making them almost immobile due to their fatigue setting in. This of course causes them to build nests in caves or abandoned buildings with little to no light.

Their most noticable trait is their elongated tongues. Their muscle control abilities allow them to use said tongues with deadly precision as a tendril. This is one of the must used strategies when killing their prey, stick them in the neck with their tongues and drain them dry. This is of course helped with the microscopic pores their tongues possess that they use to suck the blood out. Whether they gain any sustenance from the blood is still a mystery.

There's another reason the Nocturnals live in the dark. They are completely silent predators and the most usual victims are the ones who didn't bring a flashlight. Thus comes the other distinction between the ghouls and the nocturnals, their want to play with their prey.

Ghouls are just out for food, Nocturnals on the other hand are much more sadistic than their counterparts. You'll find yourself traversing through an abandoned building, seemingly no light around you and your only source of sight being your flashlight in front of you.

The Nocturnals won't be in front of you though. They may not be close to you, they may not be far. But they'll always be there, always ready to kill you, always just around every single corner.

They're everywhere and nowhere at the same time.


	5. Chapter 3: The Escape

**Chapter 3: The Escape**

Last time he had an encounter with a Nocturnal it turned out so badly that Sam suffered from fatigue for the next three days, and you could imagine how bad that is in a world where everything out to kill you runs with the speed of a cheetah. Nocturnals were the one thing Sam couldn't handle, the way they moved silently almost as if they were built just to kill him. He had only actively interacted with Nocturnals three times, all three of them extremely badly.

And now here was one breathing right down his neck, waiting to pounce the moment it thinks Sam has caught on to it.

He was still alive so that would mean the Nocturnal was still trying to toy with its prey but soon enough it would grow tired of its little game and go feral. Sam didn't have much time so he needed to move quick. He could only hope he didn't move too fast as to alert the Nocturnal.

As the monster let out another deep exhale and breathed down Sam's back he could hear the infecteds tongue slowly start to leave as its jaw dislocated. Slowly he reached out his hand towards the corpse, he didn't know whether to go for the backpack or continue searching the corpse as if nothing was wrong but he had to think fast, or else it was over for him. In perhaps a desperate last wish for an escape, Sam reached in to the right pocket of the corpses jacket. That was when he could feel something inside, small with what felt like metal coating it. He slowly felt the object in the pocket to try and confirm his suspicion and that was when he felt a small button or a lever perhaps. Slightly moving his fingers to what he believed was the side of the object he could feel a small line that was wide enough to hold perhaps a sharp blade.

The metal coating, the slit to the side and the button confirmed Sam's suspicion, this was a pocket knife. This was his way out of death, but only if he moved fast.

Sam could almost feel the Nocturnals tongue graze his skin when he unfolded the knife using the button. A loud click was heard and Sam immediately could feel the infected getting set off.

The Nocturnal let out an ear grading screech as Sam swung the knife out of the pocket and towards the monster, leaving a massive cut on the Nocturnals neck. It was enough to shut it up and make it fall back a few feet but not enough to kill it, you have to go for the head, always the head. He quickly spun the knife in his hands and as the Nocturnal tried to pounce Sam he lunged it straight into the monster's skull, so hard the then mid-air infected was almost pinned to the ground.

There was no time. He adjusted the flashlight still in his mouth to better hold on to it and quickly grabbed on to both the rucksack in his right hand and the machete in his left hand, lunging the pocket knife out of the Nocturnals skull and into the back pocket of his pants.

'Ten seconds…' that was how much time Sam possibly had to escape the building before he got caved in here with hundreds of Ghouls, Zeds and Nocturnals. That scream probably woke up every single infected in the town, there was no sneaking past them now, he was going to have to run.

And run he did. Sam bolted as fast as he could, he tied the shoulder straps of the corpses backpack to his front side so he could free up both his hands. It was uncomfortable to run with and certainly slowed him down but he wasn't about to leave something like this for the infected to destroy.

'Five seconds…' he kept counting to himself. Though thankfully he was already just in front of the exit and so far no infected were in sight. Thought that didn't mean he couldn't hear them. Thousands of footsteps, loud breathing and exasperated crying and yelling. So many things were happening he could barely concentrate but now was not the time to lose focus. If he messed up now he was dead, there was no one to save him.

There's never anyone else but him.

The moment he was in front of the exit a ghoul who was probably close by immediately jumped towards Sam. Using muscle memory Sam swung his machete which knocked the ghoul to the sides, alongside almost cutting of his arm and his clean off. But this was bad, he had no time to spend even trying to fend off the infected and he was in no shape to try and kill an entire town whilst carrying so much. The fatigue was already setting in as Sam's breathing started to get more erratic and heavier. A pack of ghouls was Sam's next obstacle, five of them in total. He had no time to be fighting with them because as he caught a quick glance behind him towards the street an entire horde of both Zed and Ghouls were charging towards, all out to kill.

Before he could even look back in front of him the ghoul pack was also charging towards him. The first ghoul that tried to jump Sam was quickly avoided as Sam ducked and began running again. With a swing he took down two other ghouls and avoided the last two and continued escaping. The weight was too much so he couldn't try and slow them down by using obstacles so it looked like he would have to make his own path out of here.

Dodging, weaving and leaning to the sides he avoided all the infected that were either in front of him or managed to catch up to him from the sides. He avoided all of the streets that were littered with cars, he would have to navigate around them but the infected could just jump around them, making it easier for the infected to catch up. His legs began to throb from just how fast his legs were running, it hurt so much but the pain was bearable, what wasn't bearable was the thought of Sam getting turned into one of those things, or getting eaten alive by ghouls, or even getting sucked dry by a nocturnal.

His only saving grace right now was that the Nocturnals stopped chasing him after he got out of the building and all the other infected were slowed down, the night slightly lulls them into a much more passive state, making them stumble more. Sam however was fully alert and was slowly starting to gain some distance. Whilst he had the knowledge of how to evade the infected the ghouls and Zed only gathered one type of knowledge, how to kill.

He had finally gotten to the edge of town and the road started to take a turn towards the right Sam kept going straight until he reached the metal railing. He mustered whatever strength was left in his legs to jump as high as he could. Thankfully it was enough for him to jump it. Now he was on uneven terrain though, and the infected were once again catching up. He could only hope that the railing was enough to slow them down just long enough for him to lose them in the forest.

After he landed back on his feet Sam continued to run with a fervent stride. He wasn't about to slow down now, though that proved even more difficult now that he was going uphill.

His only hope now is that the forest would give him cover enough to escape.

 **13 minutes later…**

Still as a rock, or a tree, or however the phrase goes. That was Sam right now. He didn't move a muscle, focusing most his efforts on trying to control his breathing.

The forest once again proved to be Sam's greatest ally as at this point most of the infected had gone back to the city, their territorial instincts starting to kick in. Now all that was left were a few stray ghouls that were still hungry.

There four in total from what Sam could see, at least those were the ones in the general vicinity. 3 of them looked to be normal ghouls, there were no clearly defining traits from their appearances so it would seem these ones didn't develop any form of higher intelligence. But other than the 3 first ghouls there was one more problem. An evolved ghoul was also with them, cannibals as he called them. Even for infected standards the cannibal was always too human looking for how animalistic they acted, Sam hated that, though frankly he hated all of the infected.

If this was any other situation Sam could have easily either just sneaked past them or killed them if he felt confident. But he was exhausted, every bone in his body was shaking and the muscles in his legs felt like they were about to burst. It was obvious that Sam needed at least some time to rest but the threat of being discovered by the ghouls was a constant, no matter how far they were from him. His eyes started to become heavy as he almost began to drift off into sleep from exhaustion but quickly Sam shook his head and decided on a plan.

He was too weak to fight the ghouls head on and too exhausted to try and get past them, so there was only one option. He opened up his backpack that he place next to him, right beside the corpses backpack, and pulled out his gun.

He never knew what type of gun it was, it looked just like any other gun his father had, but there was one distinct thing this firearm had, a built-in silencer.

Sam could never figure out why people used silencers. His father always said it was to deafen the noise of the gunshot but to him it was just as loud, though perhaps it didn't break his eardrums so that was a good thing. It seemed to work the same for the infected as well as this pistol has gotten him out of many tough situations, situations just like this one right now. Another he didn't like using it besides the noise was because he didn't like using up the ammo. The gun itself could seemingly hold different types of ammo but bullets in and of themselves were a rarity, which made them invaluable to Sam. 4 bullets, that was the most he was willing to spend in this situation.

As he loaded each bullet separately Sam could hear the ghouls starting to get closer to his location. Despite his attempts at trying to conceal himself by making little noise he did pick a rather obvious hiding spot, a massive rock, it the first thing he found really and so much running had not only exhausted his body but his mind as well, he just wanted somewhere to stop.

Sam peaked around the corner of the rock, hoping the ghouls had not heard the noise he was making while rummaging through his backpack for the pistol. Immediately he saw the three normal ghouls still searching for him, sniffing around the ground as if they were hunting dogs with hunched backs.

There was no time like the present, all 3 of the ghouls were facing their backs from Sam, it was a tricky shot but he could manage to get off three headshots.

He adjusted both of his hands on the grip of the pistol and carefully aimed the barrel towards the first ghoul, slowly but surely, he had a clear shot through his iron sight and for only a moment the ghoul revealed his head as it turned to the side. Sam shot his pistol, a loud _clink_ noise coming out as soon as he pulled the trigger. The ghoul was dead. On to the next one.

He slightly climbed over the rock and once again adjusted his sights towards the ghouls. This time he had a much shorter time span to adjust his aim as the ghoul seemed to had almost noticed him. He would have had Sam not shot the infected when he did. That was two down, two more to go.

The third one proved to be a problem now as it had seen both of its other pack members dead on the ground, it scanned the are quickly and found Sam though it seems his trigger finger was faster than the ghoul's senses as now all three normal ghouls were dead on the ground with a bullet between their eyes.

That just left the question though; Where was the big one?

Sam found his answer as he heard loud stomps in quick succession with another, those stomps started to become much louder and louder and Sam finally figured it out. He tried to reach for his machete as fast he could but the cannibal was faster. He charged at him from the side and picked him up, ramming him into a nearby tree.

As Sam let out a gasp of pain the cannibal went in for a swing. Thinking quick Sam ducked under the swing and saved himself from getting decapitated. He shifted around the cannibal and tried to make a run for his machete. The cannibal had decimated the tree he had rammed Sam from only single swing. He knew they were strong, but never did he see an actual cannibal be this aggressive. That could only mean he was hungry, very hungry.

Sam slid towards his machete and grabbed both it and the gun. He didn't have much time to aim though as the cannibal was once again charging towards him. He fired off a shot and once again a _clink_ came out of the gun. He missed.

Dodging out of the way of the cannibals charge the infected rammed himself straight into the rock giving Sam just enough time to try and take it out. It didn't prove to be much though as the monster quickly recovered and started swinging again.

Any one of those swings could be enough to break Sam's bones. He never could figure out how strong cannibals really were but from past experiences he didn't really want to find out.

When the cannibal rammed itself into the rock a few pieces shattered off of it. The infected used said pieces and started throwing them towards Sam. He barely dodged them all, bobbing and weaving as to not lose his head from the sheer velocity of the cannibals throws. It felt like if one of those rocks even grazed him Sam would be sent flying from sheer knockback.

The evolved ghoul had run out of rock though and now it was back to it's flailing arms and bites. Sam slid past almost all his attacks, the adrenaline coming back to his body.

The cannibal lifted one of his clawed hands in the air and brought it down, Sam just barely got out of the way. This was his opportunity though, the cannibal's hand had gotten stuck, burrowed in the ground. With a swing of his arms he brought down the machete unto the cannibal with all the might the boy could muster. Had it connected with the cannibals head it would have killed him for sure. But at the last moment the infected raised it's other hand and blocked the machete, burrowing it deep into the flesh and even bone.

Sam struggled as he tried to pull the machete out of the infected almost the same as the cannibal itself tried to get it's hand out of the ground. He looked into the infecteds eyes and saw the blank irises, the dead stare, its jaw unhinged and drooling. It made it look like the cannibal was almost smiling at Sam.

That look, as if it was mocking him. He hated looking at all the infected up close. They were all so malformed and twisted that it felt wrong just seeing them. But the cannibals… they just looked human enough for it to anger Sam. Make him despise them even more than he already does.

He let go of the machete and grabbed one of the larger rocks near him, the ones the cannibal had thrown at him. He picked it up with both his hands and held it over the infected who was still trying to get itself loose before bringing it down its head.

When the rock had struck the cannibal it almost let out a roar towards him but Sam once again struck its head. Beating it repeatedly, over and over again before the cannibal fell over. Sam jumped on it and continued smashing its skull until the twitching stopped and the head was nothing more than a pile of smushed flesh and broken bone.

The cannibal was dead and Sam loomed over it for a few seconds, covered in black blood, before he stood up, unlogged his machete and walked over to his back pack.

It was over, he survived.

 **The Next Day…**

After his ordeal with the infected Sam didn't have any time to rest. The roar the cannibal let out before he killed it must have at least attracted a few more stray infected to his location. Sam had picked up both the backpacks and once again began to run, this time however at a much slower pace than before as his adrenaline was still keeping him on his feet, he needed to preserve for as long as he could.

An hour later and the sun had finally reared its ugly head. Sam decided it was time to set up camp.

He found a quiet spot deeper in the woods that was located on top of a slight uphill mound, this way he could easily see anything trying to creep towards him from below. Sam gathered enough firewood to last him a few hours and started the fire, he also dragged a hollow log he found near the mound and placed it near the fireplace.

Whilst the sun may have been up that didn't mean it wasn't cold, from what he could tell by the look of the forest it was already the middle of Autumn and the weather showed.

You never know whether it was going to be a clear day, a wind-filled obstacle course, or a flat-out thunderstorm. Most of the times whenever the rain started Sam would try and get to an abandoned building or somewhere that had a roof as to not completely soak the only two pairs of clothes he had. His trench coat managed to give him some warmth during the cold nights and windy days but when it rained, it poured, and even Sam's coat was going to save him from it.

A campfire every now and then was useful for Sam to warm himself up in the cold mornings when he would do these night hunts. Frankly though, he was just looking to maybe 2 or 3 hours of peace and quiet to get some sleep. He didn't really have much of a sleeping schedule, whenever he was on the brink of passing out was the usual indicator of bedtime approaching but other than that he couldn't afford the luxury of dosing off, not when he was near a city or crowded area especially. But this was far enough from the town that Sam was confident he would wake up to any infected trying to beat his head in with tree branches.

Whilst he was setting up the campfire Sam also inspected the corpses backpack that he risked life and limb for. It turned out to be a pretty good haul.

12 bullets in total, he tested all of them out and they seemed to fit well enough into the pistol that it looks like they'll work. Hopefully the fact that the bullets he normally uses and these ones look similar isn't going to literally blow up in his face. They weren't the same, that much Sam could recognize but they also looked similar enough for him to assume there wouldn't be any problems. Though Sam thought it was strange how he didn't find a gun alongside the bullets but he wasn't going to complain, it probably would have been too loud for him to use.

A bag of potato chips, no date on them but he hoped they weren't expired. Three cans of beans that were simply called "Small Red Beans" on the can, a good ration food that's probably not gonna go bad any time soon. A compass, coupled up with the map he found this was going to prove invaluable in terms of navigation. Two bottles of water, seemingly clean, and a bottle of whisky, or at least Sam thinks its whisky from the shape of the bottle as well as the smell there is no mark or brand on it so it seems homemade, not that he would ever have the luxury of actually trying alcohol, it would dull his senses too much.

It may have not been much but the food and water would keep him going for two or three weeks now until he would have to start conserving again. Alongside that he had also found a very good number of bullets, though he isn't planning on using them any time soon, and hopefully he won't need to.

But perhaps the best find he could hope for, besides the map, was the compass. Up until now Sam had just been wandering but with the map as well as the compass he can finally start going into the direction he needs to, towards Washington.

But that was something he would have to plan for in due time. First, he would need to figure out where he was. Somewhere in Montana if he could believe the scribblings of a dead man. But where in Montana exactly was going to be a completely different mystery. One he was going to have to figure out…

… though first, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to take a nap for an hour or two.

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _ **And with that comes closed the third official chapter.**_

 _ **Hey there my boys and girls who've stuck with this story so far. I'm coming here to address a few things before we fully end this chapter off.**_

 _ **First off, a bit of introductions, my name is Winter, I am one of the creators of this story. Besides me there is also KannissRussel, our resident fat Nazi Danish boy who likes to roleplay that he's German. And Blinx, our resident Australian cow who is also bulimic.**_

 _ **The three of us banded together one day to take a break from our regular shitposting and secretly plotting to kill each other to talk a bit about a Walking Dead fanfic idea. This idea had the basics of a zombie apocalypse story. Start off at the beginning and work your way up right smack dab in the middle of the event. Focus on the characters and make them interesting for the readers to get invested or at least not make them wish the zombies would just eat said characters. Eventually this idea sort of went its own way and I guess you could say it blossomed into its very own original story. Instead of the usual Walking Dead-esque story where the focus is more on "Oh but the true enemy of man… IS MAN HIMSELF" we decided to go a bit of a different direction and have tried to make the infected an actual threat, or at least a believable enough threat to think that the army wouldn't just decimate them once they figured out that you should just aim for the head.**_

 _ **So far, I am legitimately surprised with how the story is doing, especially as an original work, with no real already established fanbase to cling to. Would I say I'm happy with how the story is doing so far? Honestly, yeah. And frankly, I only want to improve both as a writer and as a storyteller as the story itself goes on, to give readers a world they can actually enjoy reading about, not to mention write some characters the people can feel as attached to as I have been when I was first laying out everything in my storyboarding drafts.**_

 _ **I made this little author note for two reasons really. One, to give me and my two little shitposting brothers an introduction. And two, to just post a notice that next chapter will be written by our neighborhood Hitler, Kaniss. So, if you find a harsh difference in writing style then that is why. Blinx will also have his chapter and the three of us will be interchanging a few times so the writing keeps itself fresh. Also there's the excuse that if people don't like the next chapter I can just point all the blame towards Kannis, so that's always a plus.**_

 _ **If you have any thoughts, suggestions, perhaps you found a few grammatical errors or in general a review in mind then please do, any support is appreciated and frankly there is no better feeling for a writer on any one of the self-publishing sites to see that new review notification go up.**_

 _ **That's all from me, I'll see you dudes and dudetes later.**_


	6. Chapter 4: The Reichstag

**Chapter 4: Reichstag**

 **A/N: Hey fellas. Winter was kind enough to give an introduction last chapter to me. I'm KanisRussell.**

 **You may know me from such timeless classics as "The Galaxy under an Iron heel" or "The Song of the Red Eagle."**

 **There might be some themes in this chapter that can be offensive to some, so fair warning. And for starters, all German used in this chapter will not be correct, because it is not meant to. So please don't bully me.**

 **Just so you know, Winter is an autistic Croatian, who is more Italian than he is slavic. Also, his dad is in prison.**

 **Kind regards**

 **KanisRussell.**

* * *

 **A couple of days later.**

Sam had made an active effort to avoid the cities after his incident. His breath was sometimes still not optimal. He made several mental notes to himself, mostly about what to do and not to do. He figured that after being so long on the road, he should count himself lucky.

How long had it been? A few years? He stopped counting a while ago. It didn't matter. In fact, not a lot of things mattered in this new world. One upside was the map he got. He held it like a prized possession that could be taken at any moment.

It was a harsh reality, but the few people he had encountered over the years had looked anything but civilized. He would be safer on his own. He would be a burden to other people, he learned that from his friends. Sometimes he wondered if it was the right choice, and he often wondered where they were now.

The Montana wilderness had begun to claim back what was left of the old world. The roads were cracked open in some places, trees and plants settling in. Abandoned cars were rusty after being exposed to the elements for so long. Though, Sam tried to avoid getting to close to the cars, it was more often than not, that some ghoul or other monster would hide in there.

He walked by the side of the road, ready to jump into the ditch beside, should the need be. For the past two miles, it had been a forest that surrounded the road. It's fresh air and calming silence making a nice change for Sam.

That didn't change the fact that Sam's feet sometimes dragged across the forest floor. He was tired, and when he looked up at sky he could see the sun was heading towards its sleep in the ground. He stopped up and took a moment to breathe and relax. He pulled up his map, and studied it deeper. He had found a pen some time ago, and tried to pinpoint where the road went.

He realized he needed to find a place to sleep for night soon. Sleeping out in the open was not an option, not with so many dangers running around. In the wilderness, a bear or a wolf would be just as dangerous as any infected. He stood up and began his quest to find a place to sleep. He was already yawning at regular intervals.

He stopped up when he saw something. At first, he thought it was his exhausted mind making things up, but after rubbing his eyes clear, he realized it was true enough. A body was hung up in a tree. It was missing its legs. In fact, it was missing everything from the waist down. Had this been a few years ago, Sam would have had the urge to throw up, that however didn't mean the stench wasn't enough to make him cover his nose. Sam noticed that the person strung up had a bolt in the brain, so it was dead. Not coming back to life.

Sam only heard the roar of the engines too late. Men on motorcycles were circling him now, watching him as a predator would its prey. They blocked his means of escape. His mind racing to find a way out. These men did not look friendly in any way, and Sam could only guess what they were after.

What Sam presumed to be the leader, drove his bike right up in front of him. He turned off the engine and ordered his men to do the same. The leader wore black leather, had boots that reached half of his calf and sported what appeared to be a revolver in his holster. He had some improvised armor, certainly not store brought, not that anything nowadays was.

His boots echoed against the road. He walked straight up to Sam and stared at him with a deadly stare. He seemed to be studying him, staring him down right here in the middle of the road. Sam kept scanning, kept trying to find a way out. Still, his bones felt weak, his legs on the verge of passing out under him.

"Well, what do we have here? A kleinen Kind?" The leader laughed, the others seemed to join in on the laughter. Sam looked curiously at the man and tried to understand what he just said. It sounded a lot like something he had heard before, but his mind had trouble pinpointing where it was from. Didn't matter. What mattered was the situation at hand.

"Look Freund, you are on our turf. We are the _Reichtag_. People who pass through our turf pay... Customs. So, you better pay up, or-" The leader pointed to the body hanging on the tree. "-You'll end up like _'Charlie no-legs'_ over here" The leader chuckled. The others, once again, laughed with their leader.

They all looked the same, and at the same time, different. Some had unruly bushy beards, others had a clean-shaven head. Some had helmets, others had only a simple bandana to cover their heads, and some had nothing. All of them looked hardened, and heavily armed. Since this was their turf, Sam figured they stayed in the same place. He was outmanned and certainly outgunned

"What's the matter boy? Katze got your tongue?" The leader asked.

Sam hadn't used his voice in a long time, and he wasn't about to use his rusty voice now. He returned the deadly stare, and the chuckling began to die down. The leader's hand moved to his magnum and tightened around the grip of the gun.

"Your backpack, hand it over." The leader demanded as he pointed to the ground in front of him. Sam took a moment to register what the leader had just said. The backpack held everything he needed. There was no way in hell he would give it up. The map was there, alongside a lot of other prized things, that he simply couldn't live without.

A long moment followed, and the leader seemed to grow impatient with the lack of obedience from Sam. Suddenly, the leader snapped his fingers, and a man dismounted his bike and stood behind the leader.

The leader opened his hand and the man placed a machete in the gloved hand. "Seems we have to do this the hard way." The leader said and began to slowly walk there, taking long steps. Sam suddenly realized what words they were using, it was German! Sam opened the backpack and found the German dictionary he picked up some time ago.

He held it out to the leader, who stopped up and looked confused at Sam. He lowered the machete and looked back at his men, before returning his stare to Sam. "You're going to have to cough up more than a simple Buch, my Junge." He chuckled at the absurd gift Sam was offering.

Sam himself grew impatient with the laughter all around him, and lightly threw the book towards the leader. It landed a few inches from the leader's feet. One look down and the leader quickly read the words on the book.

 _Deutsch._

He quickly kneeled down to grab the book and look at it. "Mein Gott, will you look at that. The kid seems to know German." He chuckled as he held up the book for all to see. In truth, this was something the leader had been looking for, for quite some time. But he wouldn't let that be known to either his men... Or Sam.

The men kept up their laughter as they believed everything coming out of their leader's mouth was comedy gold. Sam kept his cold, not shifting his facial expressions. To him, this was like a poker game, and one wrong bluff could destroy everything. He couldn't screw this up. He sent out a silent prayer to the God that never listened, and hoped for the best.

While the laughter continued, it was suddenly broken by an ear piercing screech that left them all turning to the source. Sam could barely see past the bikers, but he had a faint idea what it could be. He hated the creature, a cannibal. Really hard to kill and could pack a punch.

"It's a fucking coyote!" One of them yelled.

Coyote? No, it was a cannibal! Unless... They had different terms for it. Still, Sam wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. This was a chance to get away. He had given them something. That was kindness... Wasn't it? He didn't owe them shit, and even if he turned over the backpack, there was no guarantee he wouldn't end up like... _Charlie No-Legs._ God, he had more important things to do than stay here and test fate.

The cannibal must have been sleeping in one of the rusty cars, and had probably been awakened by the leader demanding stuff from Sam. He never thought that one of those things would save him. But he would take that over being strung up. Sam quickly took off into the woods. It had rained a few days ago, and so the forest floor was still muddy. His quick mind had concluded that those motorcycles probably couldn't follow him there.

He heard gunshots, and he knew that it was a dinner bell for all the other monsters around the woods. Suddenly he realized why people used silencers on their weapons. The noise coming from the magnum was testing his eardrums, and he felt like they were going to explode. He had to get away, he didn't want to lose his hearing just yet. He needed it.

Once the firing came to a halt, and Sam's eardrums almost cried out in relief, he heard yelling. "THE KIND IS GONE!" One yelled, sounding almost desperate.

"HE WENT INTO THE FOREST!" Another voice yelled. All of the voices sounded gruff.

"GO AFTER HIM!" The leader replied, he heard one start up his bike. "NO YOU DUMFHEAD! THIS SOIL IS MUDDY!" The leader's voice sounded even angrier than before, if that was even possible.

"You two! After him." This time, the leader's voice was more quiet. He heard the two set out after him. Sam used whatever energy he had left to set his legs into full sprint. He realized running into the forest wouldn't help him regarding navigation tomorrow. But right now, he only wanted to be far away from those people.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING?" The leader yelled out. "YOU'RE DEAD MOOSE MEAT!" The leader added. _Moose meat?_ Sam didn't understand what he meant by that. But he didn't have to time to think about it. Sam just ordered his legs to move faster.

With the remaining willpower left, he managed to speed up. Those bikers seemed pretty fast for people who spent most of the day on their bikes. A shot ringed out, it's noise echoed by the trees. Once again, his eardrums cried out in pain as he covered them.

When Sam looked back, he couldn't see them. He hoped he had lost them, and decided he needed a quick breath. He hid behind a tree and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. He really needed to find a place to sit down and relax, but now simply wasn't the time. He had to get away. He had to put enough distance between him and the bikers.

"We'll find you moose meat!" One of his pursuers called out. "The hunt is exciting!" Another one added. Sam took off again, new found motivation carrying him forward. He made a mental note to thank whatever higher being was in power if he got away.

When he had run, what he presumed to be, a mile or two, he stopped. He hadn't heard the bikers' voices in a while. He hoped they had abandoned search and returned to base. God, he really hoped that was true. He sat down on the forest floor, giving in to his legs. His legs and lungs both felt like they were on fire, no doubt from all the running.

He was tempted to simply pass out on the ground, let the calming silence and fresh air lure him to sleep. But his willpower and rational sense came to his aid. He knew it wasn't safe. One thing was the bikers, another was whatever wildlife was out there.

He needed to find a place; otherwise, he might actually end up like _Charlie no-legs._

* * *

 **This Chapter was approved by Denmark Mafia.**

 **You're dead moose meat.**


	7. Chapter 5: The Cabin

**Chapter 5: The Cabin**

'Rain…' Sam hated the rain, always so loud, though it did often mean he could be more lenient in terms of travelling. The infecteds senses would be incredibly dulled, their hearing tampered, their smell less efficient and their vision obstructed. Though that didn't mean Sam had a lot of chances to make use of the rain, it was the main reason he hated it so much, too much of an annoyance, and in the end, it did a lot more harm than it did good for him.

It was just his luck then that it looked like a goddamn thunderstorm was coming, and fast. Up in the sky, through the foliage of the massive oak trees, Sam could see the clouds gathering. In the distance, he could also hear thunder roaring. He remembered being told that whenever a storm was coming, he should start counting, "flashbang" technique or whatever it was called. Just count the number of seconds that pass between a flash of lightning and the crack of thunder that follows it, then divide that number by five.

'1,2…10, 11, 12… 20 seconds.' He counted, meaning the lighting struck some 4 or 5 miles away. That was too close for comfort and it only meant the rain was going to start pouring soon. Last thing he needed right now was hypothermia.

First the infected, then that biker gang, and now the rain. Sam was running from everything these last few days. It had been only a few hours after his little encounter with the… _Reichstag?_ Was that what they called themselves? Never mind, it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was that Sam once again had to nearly tear off his own legs running from those bastards and now if he didn't pick up the pace he would soon be freezing to death out in the middle of nowhere. He needed shelter, fast.

Usually whenever rain would start falling Sam would be happy sticking to the woods, especially this one with its tall trees, provides good cover and the tall foliage makes it so the rain doesn't become too much of an annoyance. But once again, it seemed Sam used up all his luck back in that town because a lot of the leaves here had either fallen off or were about to. It looked like it was already the middle of Autumn, it would explain the cold.

Sam never really thought much about how much time really passed since everything… well… went to shit. Months or Years, Days or Weeks, they all just simply molded together for him. His irregular sleeping schedule didn't help much with that either as before all this he would just go to bed at 11 PM or something like that but now it didn't matter what time it was or if the Sun or the Moon were the ones orbiting the skies, he just rested whenever he knew he couldn't go any further. Other than that, there were some occasions where Sam thought it would be a good idea to take a few moments rest, none of them ended well and he barely managed to survive.

At this point, his entire routine was based solely on muscle memory and forces of habit. For so long he's been wandering from place to place, mostly following the roads hoping they'll reach into a city or small town. He didn't really know what to expect when wandering alone, he didn't know what he was looking for. Supplies? Survivors? Safe Haven? It never came to him just _why_ he kept on going. Perhaps it was the belief that one day all of this will just go away and everything will start being normal, perhaps it was just Sam's pure stubbornness, he survived this long after all, maybe it wouldn't be all that bad to see how much more he can push it.

As the thunder once again struck behind Sam he did the same technique. 19 seconds, not much but it meant it was getting closer despite Sam moving away from it. The clouds also didn't help as by now the sun was almost completely covered.

From a quick walk to a slight jog, Sam picked up the pace and began looking around. He did so for several minutes, all the while keeping his breath steady as to not tire himself out even more than he was already was.

From the corner of his eye he spotted it, something that looked like an abandoned wooden cabin, something that just might be his ticket out of hypothermia. From a jog to a swift run Sam once again quickened his pace as the thunder once again struck. By now he stopped counting as clouds had fully covered the sky and Sam could already feel small drops of rain falling on his head.

As he got closer to the cabin Sam observed the boarded-up windows and shack to the sides. The shack was something Sam had no interest in currently as his main focus was looking if the cabin still had a roof. Thankfully, the building still seemed mostly intact, no holes, no cracks, at least on the outside. He finally got to the closed door of the cabin and stopped himself for a moment. Sam was extremely tired, which meant he would be extremely ineffective in a fight, if an infected was hiding inside there then Sam would be a goner. He caught his breath, slowing down his heartbeat so it wouldn't be so loud, and he placed his ear on the door of the cabin.

Was it actually a cabin? Or would it be more of a lodge? Sam didn't really know what to think of it as, though the difference didn't really matter to him. Despite all the lighting happening away from him and the leaves rustling from the wind Sam focused in and heard a sound coming from inside the cabin. The crackling of a fire.

At this realization Sam's eyes skyrocketed open, a fire inside the house, he remembered seeing a chimney on the roof of the building but Sam couldn't recall if there was smoke coming out of it. All the windows were boarded up so he couldn't see inside but Sam trusted his hearing enough to be sure the he heard a fire.

He wanted to burst in there immediately, see who was inside, the hope that finally he would run into something... no, someone, that didn't want to kill him. But he knew better, this place might just as well be a place one of those biker people lodged themselves in as shelter from the coming storm.

Sam placed his hand on the handle of the door and pulled out the pocket knife that he had stashed away in his jacket, he planned to use it if one of those Reichstag guys tried to grab him, now it looked like he was bound to use it, if there was trouble inside.

With a deep breath he held the knife tight and turned the handle of the door, slowly opening it. As he looked inside he saw the back of a hooded man in a worn and dirty dark green coat and a hoodie over his head. It seemed like he hadn't heard Sam opening the door, how that was possible Sam didn't know, he heard it just fine. The man was sitting on a wooden armchair facing towards a stone fireplace, that explained the fire at least, but Sam was still weary.

He wanted to cry out, call to the guy and see how he reacted, but before he could do so Sam spotted the gun to the man's left. He didn't recognize what kind of gun it was, looked like one of those wild west rifles cowboys would use, 'Repeater?' he asked himself.

The man, somehow still not noticing all the noise, reached out his hand to grab a piece of chopped wood and tend to the fire, as he did so Sam could see the man's arm was completely covered in dirty bandages, some parts even seemed to have old bloodstains. This only fueled Sam's paranoia, whoever this guy was he didn't seem like a friendly type.

Sam took another step and before he could react a bolt of thunder sounded off, this time it was so loud that Sam felt his ears ring out in pain as if it was right next to him. This sudden noise made the man in green jump out his chair and look behind him in surprise to see a stammering Sam holding his hands over his ears trying to calm down the pounding.

As he looked up at the man's face Sam couldn't see one, only a head covered in more bandages with googles where his eyes should have been. Now that he was facing him Sam saw that the man's entire body was covered in pants, with the only clothing on him being the coat, a hoodie under it and some pants. There wasn't any skin under the clothes, he was completely covered up.

"Howdy." The man greeted, seemingly unfazed by having someone almost sneak up on him with a knife. Sam couldn't for the life of him understand how someone could react to him like that. "You mind closing that door, rains probably about to start pouring, if it hasn't already."

Sam did so, carefully closing the door whilst never taking his eyes off the bandaged-covered man. Whilst he did so the man himself didn't seem the least bit worried or careful, keeping his covered-up arms on his hips.

"Seeing as how you haven't tried to claw my face off or bash my head in I'm gonna assume you're not an infected." The man said, his tone being incredibly casual and friendly. Sam merely exhaled through his nose and slightly nodded to the man, still holding onto the knife in his hand. He may be acting friendly now but he could just as easily overpower Sam, especially now in the state he's in.

The man walked over to what Sam could assume was the bedroom and exited it shortly after, carrying another armchair with him and placing it down beside the fireplace.

"There you go, have a seat then will ya?" the man said as he sat down once more to tend to the fire. Sam didn't move an inch however, still glaring at how casual the bandaged man was acting about the whole situation. The first people he meets in what feels like years and one groups a gang of bloodthirsty German bikers and the other's a bandaged-up weirdo who wants to help a kid with a knife in his hands.

As the man looked behind him to see Sam still standing in front of the now closed door he once again gestured to the second chair. "You're probably tired and I doubt those clothes have given you much protection from the weather. Don't worry, I won't bite. Kinda be hard to bite through all this wouldn't you agree?" the man said as he lightly began scratching the bandages around where his mouth should be. "Plus, this fire's nice and cozy, better warmth you'll get than by just standing on your feet there."

Despite his odd appearance the man's voice seemed completely normal. It had been so long since someone had talked to him so openly like this, so long since anyone else had even offered him something. Which is why it all felt so wrong, like it was a trap. He might have been cold but that could just have been the excuse the man needed to get him close, though Sam supposed if he did want to kill him he could have just grabbed the gun.

If he were to run away now the rain would simply soak him and then he would be screwed, but more importantly the map would be destroyed. Still, he had to be careful. Sam wasn't going to kill him, he didn't even think he would even have to think about killing another person. The infected… they were different, they looked so wrong, so inhuman that Sam had blocked out all his emotions for them, but killing people was a line he didn't want to ever cross.

Sam walked over to a corner of the room opposite the fireplace. He placed his backpack right next to him and sat down on the floor, still holding the knife in his hand, just in case.

The man turned his head and looked at him through his cracked googles. For a few moments the two merely just stared at each other, as if they anticipating each other's next move, waiting to see what the other would do.

"Suit yourself kid." The man said, breaking the silence before he turned his head back towards the fire.

 **2 HOURS LATER…**

At this point the rain had been begun pouring in full force. Sam could hear every single drop hitting off roof of the cabin, normally it was an annoyance for him to suffer through the rain and all its noise but somehow it provided a nice ambience to the room. It made Sam just want to fall asleep and get a few hours of rest until this whole thing stopped.

Over the past few hours Sam was having his eyes fixed on the man sitting across from him near the fireplace. Like himself, the bandaged-up man, or simply "Ragman" as Sam had begun calling him in his head, was completely unmoving, still as a gargoyle perched up on one of those cathedrals.

As more time passed Sam slowly began to doze off more and more. Every time he blinked it felt like he had to take whatever strength he had left in him to push his eyes back open. This continued for what felt like an eternity as by now he had fully lodged himself into the corner he sat in, staying still for so long that the cold had stopped bothering him.

Suddenly Sam's stomach let out a low growl. He had forgotten to eat, both yesterday and today. Ragman seemed to hear that, finally breaking his statue-esque stillness to turn his head towards Sam again.

"When's the last time you ate anything kid?" he asked to which Sam did not reply. "You got anything _to_ eat over there in that pack of yours?" Ragman's words were loud enough to keep Sam awake for now and he supposed that answering him wouldn't be the end of the world.

"Yes…" he said, the soft and feint whisper of a response made Sam confused for a moment. It had been so long since Sam had heard his own voice. It sounded so foreign, as if it were the voice of a stranger.

"That so?" Ragman said as he reached into his backpack. "I don't really have much but from the way you look I think you could use something warm to drink right now." As he said that Ragman pulled out a plastic bottle with some rose-tinted liquid inside it and threw it towards Sam. "Think fast."

When Sam caught it, he could feel that the bottle was very warm, probably due to its contents. "Some herbal tea I managed to warm up. It'll help ya out with that cold of yours."

Sam's brow slightly raised as he opened up the plastic bottle and smelled it. It had a feint aroma of strawberry to it. "Oh, one more thing." Ragman said before throwing something else towards Sam, some sort of small plastic container. As he caught it he saw a label, 'All-American Chocolate-Chip Cookies'. "I hear those are good to have with milk, but uh… I don't really have any milk with me."

Sam was still suspicious, however, his hunger seemed to get the better of him. He sipped a small amount of the tea Ragman gave him, besides smelling like strawberries it seemed like it also had a somewhat similar taste as well. Sam really didn't know if there were any poisons that tasted like strawberries so for now he assumed he hadn't been drugged or poisoned. After fiddling with the plastic wrapping of the cookie box for a few seconds Sam eventually opened it to see around 5 or 6 chocolate-chipped cookies inside, just like the box said.

"It won't really fill you up that much, but hey, at least you won't go to sleep hungry right?" Ragman commented as he threw another piece of wood into the fireplace to keep it burning a bit longer.

'Sleep…' the moment Ragman had mentioned it Sam's eyes once again started feeling heavy and so he spent half his efforts eating the food and drink Ragman had thrown at him and the other half on trying to stay awake long enough to actually eat everything.

After a minute or so Sam ate all the cookies and drank up the last bits of the tea he was given. It may not have been much but to him it felt like a feast. The tea especially was somewhat more refreshing than his usual water.

Though now that he had just eaten it seemed like his fatigue began setting in even more so. Eventually Sam couldn't fight it anymore as he felt his conscious slowly slipping away and before he knew it everything went dark, but not before he had heard one more thing from Ragman.

"Sleep tight kid, something tells me you need it."

 **The Next Morning…**

As Sam opened his eyes he found himself lying on a mattress with a blanket over him. As the realization came to him that he was not in the same place he was when he fell asleep Sam immediately shot up back to his feet. He quickly scanned around him to see where he was and found that he was still in the cabin. From what he could hear there was no more rain outside and from the chirping of the birds it seemed as though it was early morning.

He got the blanket off of him and looked around some more. When he looked down at first, he could notice that he wasn't wearing all his clothes, just the shirt he had under his jacket and his pants. From what he could tell the mattress was place beside the fireplace but Sam couldn't feel any heat coming from even the embers, the fire had probably gone out a long time ago. Ragman seemed to be gone, he probably took off while Sam was sleeping.

Right next to the makeshift bed Sam was lying in was his back pack with a note on it. On the note Sam could read a small message, _'Check the bedroom'_ it said. Sam didn't know if this was some kind of trap but he wanted to be ready so he once again took out his little pocket knife and headed for the bedroom.

Though instead of something harmful all Sam found when he entered the room was a bed with a bunch of clothes placed on top of it, all neatly arranged and seemingly clean. Sam couldn't help but be amazed at how well-kept these clothes looked, especially the fact that they didn't even smell.

From top to bottom Sam saw the clothes. A greyish-blue leather trench coat, not unlike Ragman's own, a black full-sleeved shirt, blue cargo pants with lots of pockets and leather boots. He had an entire outfits worth of clean clothes, all of it looking like it just came out of a shopping mall. Was Ragman carrying all this? Sam couldn't really figure it out.

Right next to all the clothes Sam saw another note on the pillow of the bed.

"These are for you kid, try not to get killed in them."

Why anyone would go through so much trouble for someone like Sam was beyond him, especially _this much_. It left Sam in a stopper and made him question who that man really was. It looks like he might never get an answer to that question however as Ragman seems to be long gone.

Looks like even in this world there are still some people trying to help others. Sam could only hope he could repay the man someday.

* * *

 _ **Note:**_

 _ **Alright and with that the chapter draws to a close. Now normally with all my other stories I put in these A/N every chapter to just give a brief overview on everything that's happened but for now I've been kind of silent. There's not really much for me to talk about here without giving away a lot of stuff about future events in the story.**_

 _ **So instead I'll use this opportunity to answer some reviews I got recently so here we go;**_

 **Shrednector15:** _'Interesting story so far. Is Sam going to run into any of the characters from the show or Fear the walking dead?'_

 _ **That's a good question and really, I'm gonna have to shut you down on that one friend. Like I said on chapter 1 (or the prologue whichever way you want to slice it) this is purely an original work that is set in its own universe. There will perhaps be a mention or a reference or two but nothing that will really show any characters from other stories.**_

 **Hurricane'97:** 'This is the most refreshing walking dead story I've ever read. I was sick of reading about the same old boring slow zombies that could only over power you as a horde. Gimme evolved mutations like the licker any day. One of the reasons resident evil is still my favorite.

It's amazing how your progressing with this story with the main character still not speaking a single word which is understandable I mean I'd be to alert and scared to make a single noise too.

It actually reminds me of a movie I once watched called "A Quiet Place"'

 _ **Thank you very much for the kind words. The sort of basic feel me and my friends wanted to get out of this world was first and foremost that the infected were a real threat, it's one of the main reason's Sam talks so little and only really has "dialogue" in his head.**_

 _ **Of course, later on in the story we'll run into many different types of infected, all with their own different types of powers and abilities as well as ways of taking them out, or even really just avoiding them. Also, now that you mention it I can find some resemblances to "A Quiet Place" in the story even with the monsters so yeah, the more you know I guess.**_

 _ **Anyways now with the reviews done I bid you all a farewell and until next time.**_


	8. Chapter 6: The Plan

**Chapter 6: The Plan**

The rain might have stopped but that didn't mean the clouds weren't still hovering in the sky, blocking the sun. When Sam had woken up, he had thought it to already be late afternoon but now that a few hours passed he's beginning to think that he had gotten up early, very early. The cabin might have saved him from a night outside in the rain but it looked like that it had only temporarily stopped and if Sam left now, he would only get caught up in the same storm he was trying to avoid yesterday.

For the time being, maybe it was best if he just stayed in the cabin a little while longer.

Before he found the place, Sam could recall walking a good distance away from the roads and into the heart of the woods. Ghouls and Zeds usually don't stray too far from the towns and cities so he was at least safe from them, though perhaps the worst-case scenario would be running into a Mist Gorger while inside a house. Too little space to move, too little time to hide.

These last few days he had been doing nothing but running away, from infected, from people. It was such a change of pace when Sam finally got what he thought was a good night's rest that, honestly, he didn't know what to do now.

His first thought was to go around the house a bit more if he planned to be camping here for some time. It wouldn't be such a bad idea to try and get acquainted with the place, there was also that shack outside that Sam was curious about, could be worth a look.

For now, Sam chose to keep all the fresh clothes Ragman had left for him on the bed and stick to the attire he still has on. It would be a waste to ruin those seemingly well-kept clothes so early on, although it was all the same to Sam. Living out by yourself for so long, it doesn't give you much time to take personal hygiene into account, there were only a set few points every now and then where Sam would try to at least clean his hair and face, but those points have been becoming further and further apart in recent times.

Along his search of the house Sam looked around the parts he didn't really explore of both the main room as well as the bedroom. In the main room, besides the fireplace, there were also a lot of cupboards and drawers, unfortunately there wasn't much in them except some old photos and ruined books, probably could make good burning fuel though. The bedroom had a large wooden wardrobe next to the bed but like the main room it was empty with only dust and cobwebs replacing what used to be a place to stash clothing. Other than that, there wasn't much of worth in the two rooms besides a few of the books and photos, the previous owners must have simply made off with whatever supplies they could.

Sam then moved on to what he presumed to be the kitchen with furniture that was similar to the ones back in the main room. The kitchen itself wasn't too large, could probably hold maybe 3 or 4 people but other than that there wasn't anything to find, just rotten wood and creaky chairs. The last room was probably the bathroom, where all the smell was coming from. Even with closed doors Sam could still hear all the bugs flying around, a clear sign of how putrid the room must be. For now, he decided to leave the bathroom be.

Now the only thing left was the shack outside, it was probably best for him to see what's in it before all the rain began to pour again. As he stepped outside Sam noticed the wet mud and leaves splattered across the ground as well as the puddles that were close together and some that were few and far between. Sam remembered loving the rain, a long time ago. Whenever the clouds would be in the sky and you could hear raindrops outside, he would simply curl up in his bed and fall asleep. It was always so calming to him. Yesterday reminded him of those times, when he didn't have to sleep with one eye open, when he didn't have to be scared of making the slightest sounds, when everything was normal.

But time wouldn't allow Sam to keep reminiscing about a better life, he shook his head a little and continued on to the shack, the wet sounds of his boots on the mud annoying him the entire way.

The shack itself looked sturdy enough but it wasn't very big, perhaps a 10th of the size of the cabin. Back in the day, people who lived out in the woods would usually use these to store all of their tools and equipment, Sam hoped he could be so lucky as to find some of that equipment. But as luck would have it, Sam found that the door was bolted shut. He leaned his shoulder on the door and slowly began pushing to see if it would even move at all but it wasn't even budging. Then, he began lightly bashing the door with his shoulder, it was loud but it looked like it was working. Slowly but surely Sam began to nudge the door further and further until eventually, with one big bash, it swung open.

Had this been in a city Sam would have never even attempted to do something like this but he reckoned that he was far away enough in the woods to be a bit riskier.

Inside the shack there was far less than Sam hoped for. What seemed to be a carpenter's workbench was the first thing that entered his view but it had nothing more than sawdust on it. Besides that, there were actually a few useful things for a change. Above the workbench Sam saw a screwdriver with a large red plastic handle. There were a number of things a screwdriver was useful for and Sam was happy that he had finally managed to come across one. There was something arguably even more useful near the screwdriver however, a hatchet. When Sam grabbed it, he could feel the weight of the metal on the hatchet's head, this was something intended for chopping firewood, but it could also be used for chopping heads. Up until now he had simply been using the machete he had made for himself in order to start a campfire but now preparing a fire is going to be much easier. Other than that Sam also found several tools more fit to be on a farm than in the middle of the dry and barren woods. A sickle being one of them.

Another thing that caught Sam's eye however was much bigger than any hatchet or screwdriver, a chainsaw. Whoever left all these things here must have probably been a lumberjack because Sam could see that the chainsaw was very high quality, even with the rust and ware that accompanied it. Sam could never dream of using something like this, for one it was too heavy and too loud, secondly it would probably take a lot of fuel and that was something Sam wasn't wiling to go around searching for. While the thought of tearing up the infected with something like this was a cool idea for Sam, it would simply never work, too much weight and too much maintenance made it merely a nuisance rather than a helpful weapon.

That was when Sam saw a few fuel cannisters that, from where he was standing, looked pretty full. But, more importantly, he saw something else, a generator. Sam couldn't believe his eyes, he had only seen a few of these back in the cities but almost all of them were destroyed or out of fuel. Sam could faintly recall having seen a lightbulb in the main room and kitchen of the cabin, perhaps this was what could be used to power them up. For the first time in a while Sam could actually feel excitement inside himself. Carefully, he searched for the button or switch that would turn on the generator and when he found it Sam pressed his finger down on the power button. With a roar the generator began working again, it was loud but Sam was so happy he didn't really care, he could deal with the noise. Quickly though, the noise began to die down as the generator began working normally, only letting out small puffs every now and then. Just to make sure Sam used the two cannisters of fuel that looked the emptiest and poured them into the little fuel slot the generator had. At this point Sam felt like he could jump from joy but common sense had stopped him, he would probably hit his head on the roof.

But besides the tools and the generator there was one last thing that caught Sam's eye, a wooden chest under the workbench. When he tried opening it the lid of the chest merely began to creak, it was locked, of course it was. Wanting to not waste any more time inside this place Sam decided to carry the chest back into the cabin, now is going to be a good time to test out that generator.

Sam closed the door to the shack, letting the generator's sounds mainly be contained within the small wooden structure. As he slowly dragged the chest back to the cabin Sam couldn't help but feel his arms almost start stretching from how heavy the chest was. But soon enough he made it back inside the cabin, only now noticing how dimly lit it all was from the boarded-up windows, maybe Sam had just grown used to dank and dark places. That thought was reaffirmed when Sam had seen the light switch and turned it on, a sudden blinding light from above making Sam flinch. After a moment his eyes had calmed down. This was it, light, food, shelter, tools, Sam felt more and more inclined to just stay here for the rest of his life. But he smacked himself in the face for even wanting something like this, there would be not safe haven as long as the infected were out there in the world, nowhere was safe, not even here.

As he placed the chest beside the fireplace Sam closed the door of the cabin and sat down for a moment. The chest could wait, now there was something more important to do, make a plan. Where did he plan to go after this? What was his destination? Sam knew all too well where he needed to go, Washington. The question is, how's he gonna get there? And more importantly, where in the hell is he?

All these question Sam hoped to answer as he pulled out his map from his back pack and placed it on the floor. But before he could start observing everything there was another key component to this he needed. He needed Jeffrey.

Reaching into his back even further Sam finally had found his travelling companion, Jeffrey the Rock. He was the first thing Sam could remember finding out there by himself, and he had stuck with him ever since. In the earlier days, Sam remembered always talking to Jeffrey as a way to try and keep himself sane, to have someone to talk to, nowadays, that isn't quite possible. Sam knew better than to make so much noise talking to a rock, and yet still he kept him around, no matter what.

For hours then Sam had observed the map, carefully looking over each and every inch of its contents and paying close attention to the names. All the while he tried remembering the places he's been to, any notable landmarks, any points of interest he could remember them by, except for the infected. It was only after four hours of intense examination did he finish it, his own version of the map, carefully recreated inch by inch to fit with the parameters of the one he had found on the corpse. It was then that he looked at both of the maps to try and compare, Sam couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride, it was picture perfect.

Whenever situations like this occur, when Sam was forced to sit in one place for a longer period of time, he had always kept a few pens and papers around from empty notebooks that were neither destroyed or used for fuel for fires. Those pens came in extra handy now as Sam had himself two maps, one that wasn't filled to the brim with scribbles that he had presumed the corpse he found had made on the map.

After so much time he had spent focusing on the map Sam looked over to his right arm where he was holding Jeffrey and noticed how red and almost swollen it had become, when you grip on something for hours it can probably do that to a hand. But despite that Sam couldn't help but look into the rocks carved face and smile.

 _'We did it, we're finally going to Washington…'_ Sam thought to himself, though a part of him wished Jeffrey could hear him say it as well.

His suspicions were confirmed, he was in Montana on the upper north-west side of Montana to be more specific. Having figured this out, and also marking down a general location of where he is currently at, Sam had also marked a path across from where he will be planning to head out, mainly following the roads.

In a few days, his journey to Washington finally begins.


End file.
